Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1887-07-21
GRETA.

YES" said Mrs. Parkhurst, pluck
ing diligently away at the pair of
ducks which Greta, the "help"-no-
body talked about servants at Cassell's
Creek-had just decapitated and
brought in. We've all been kept
busy since the wreck. Eh? Haven't
heard of the wreckP La me! Why,
everybody at Cassell's Creek is talking
about it. 1t was a Western train,
don't you see, with two emigrant cars,
and when the trestle-work at Big
Brook gave way, there was a general
smash-up! Nobody killed, but lots O
people hurt. We kept two German
women here for week. One of 'em
had sprained wrist, and the other had
confused head-oh, confused, of
course; you're right, Greta, but who is
to pick and choose when words are so
much alikeP 1t was lucky Greta was
here, or couldn't have understood
the poor things, nor they me. Here,
Greta, you'd better fix the stutfing. 1t
has nicer flavor, somehow, when you
mix in the onions and sage. And the
ground was strewn for q hundred feet
around, with the splintered bits of
cars, and broken trunks and boxes,
and the greatest lots of feather-beds
and blankets, that the poor wretches
were carrying West. Parson Post
took up collection in church to help
'em out with their fare, and to buy the
necessaries that they had lost was
glad O that"
So Mrs. Parkhurst chatted on with
steady, even ripple of voice, like the
current of some mountain stream,
while Mr.. Stanley listened, sometimes
hearing what she said, and sometimes
not.
The truth was, he was watching
Greta, the tall slight hand-maiden,
with the coil of blonde hair, twisted
like glittering rope about her head,
and the big blue eyes, SO full of limpid
light.
How strange were the inequalities of
this world!
Mrs. Parkhurst, his aunt, shapeless,
and rubicund, looked like a dairy
woman.
Greta the hired maid-servant, had
the mien and bearing of princess.
Her voice was low and exquisitely
modulated, her pronunciation was
perfect.
Herbert Stanley had come down to
Cassells Creek to see about the title
deeds of a neighboring farm, in which
one of his clients was interested.
He had anticipated dull time while
the papers were being made out, forhe
knew of old how Aunt Parkhurst
would prose and Uncle Parkhurst
preach; and now that his pretty Cousin
Nell was married and gone to Califor-
MIA, the sojourn would be simply un-
bearable
But here was Greta Harmon, per-
feet symphony in blue and gold! Was
he artist enough to paint her, with his
kit of water-colors? Could he find
fitting words to describe her, in the
novelette, he was writing for the Week
ly B6ceps?
One wanted model, now and then,
and Greta was different from any
woman he had ever seen before.
Housework became an idyll when per-
formed with such slow stately grace;
domestic service was elevated when u
girl like Greta Harmon stepped into
its ranks.
His first night at the farm was rest
less and disturbed.
''What was that roaring sound l
heard soon after midnight" he asked
his aunt the next morning. ''It dis
turbed me SO could not Sleep"
"Roarin' soundP Amt it the fallsP"
said Mrs. Parkhurst, measuring out the
thick rich cream for the coffee with no
stingy hand.
mo; Iheard the falls, too; but that
is soothing sound rather than other
Wise.'
"Guess likely they've put the mill
bands on night work, suggested Uncle
Parkhurst. Them new steamers gines
is the dickens and all to make a clat-
ter" a
Might work-at this time O. year!
Are you crazy, ParkhhrstP" demanded
his wife.
But Greta looked up suddenly, with
such quick, intelligent light in her
eyes, that Stanley spoke at once. l
"Ah," said he, II see that you can
unravel the mystery, Miss Greta.
Greta colored to the very roots of
the golden hair.
5'.lP" she said. at must have been
the trees" ,sa
And she jumped up from her seat
at Cassells Creek the shelp" always
sat down to the table with the rest of
the family and went to the door to
drive the flock Of young turkeys out
OF the. high wet grass into the sunny
pasture-teld beyond.
What q very handsome girl that
ISL said Stanley.
..s..Aint she, thought ?" said Mrs. Park
hurst, with as much pride as IL Greta
belonged. to her. 'sAnd you amt
the only one that thinks so, neither.
She might have married well twice
since she came to me- SQUIRE Ser